


The World of Business

by GraarPlacemat



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Crossdressing, I don't know what my life has come to, M/M, Suggestive Themes, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-24
Updated: 2014-07-24
Packaged: 2018-02-10 06:08:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2013993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GraarPlacemat/pseuds/GraarPlacemat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean's a good employee, okay? It's not his fault his customers are so flipping attractive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The World of Business

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblrnon requested this like two weeks ago and I was going through my writing and figured I'd upload it here because I still find it amusing.  
> It gets very silly very fast.

Jean liked to believe that he was a good employee, and the belief wasn’t completely unfounded. When the store’s owner had observed for a day, he’d been declared the best worker in the small ice cream shop. He was quick without neglecting certain duties, he was nimble without being over-the-top, and he was friendly enough to charm even the most picky elderly customers.

Today was different, though, and the source of the trouble could be tracked to one very specific moment.

Up until that moment, all had been well - it was a slow day, dedicated mostly to polishing surfaces and organizing the interior of his workplace, a quirkier joint referred to by locals as “That place where the managers can never fucking shut up”, and referred to by everyone else by the name on its sign;  _The Survey Corps._

The two other people on his shift with him - Nanaba(manager) and Sasha - were in the back, doing this, that, and the other thing while Jean manned the counter, tapping his fingers and wondering when somebody would come in.

It was just as he was ducking beneath the counter to retrieve a cleaning rag - because he might as well do something besides just standing there - when he heard the bell ring, signaling that somebody had opened the door.

And then?

That was when everything started going wrong.

He stood up too quickly and smacked his head on the counter, knocking his uniform hat off and completely disorienting him, allowing for a slip in his typical, porcelain facade that resulted in him saying, very loudly, “DAMN IT TO HELL.”

There was a burst of laughter that came at the same time as an unfamiliar voice exclaimed, “Oh, my god! Are you okay?”

Jean squinted through the tears in his eyes, cradling the bump that was already rising on his head, and saw two people with a severe case of attractiveness regarding him. The closer one, with a pale complexion and freckles up the wazoo, was very clearly male - wearing one of those t-shirts with the sleeves, neck, and parts of the sides cut off and some very, very short pants - and also expressing clear concern for Jean and his head. He was a little on the skinnier side, but it was a toned slenderness that Jean, had he been less worried about the fate of his skull, would have been very, very appreciative of.

The other one was a bit farther away, closer to the door, and was still fighting back laughter as they made eye contact. They were tanner, wearing a sleeveless empire-waisted dress that ended several more inches above the knee than was probably strictly necessary and some cute, brightly-colored hairclips, and both shorter and slightly stockier than the boy, and Jean had no fucking clue whether they were male or female.

"Well," he grunted, "Not the best impression to make on a customer, huh?"

The girl-boy-person barked out another laugh and the boy breathed a sigh of relief. “You’re alright, then?” he asked, and this time Jean noticed how gentle his voice was. Shit, he was cute. “Sorry about my rude boyfriend,” he added, sending a look of warning back at the other person, who was apparently male.

Under his gaze, the other boy - and now that Jean was sure of his gender, he noticed the impressive muscles rippling in his thighs and arms and shoulders,  _damn_ \- melted a little. “Sorry, Marco,” he conceded, and turned his eyes - shit fuck mcnuggets just look at those babies - on Jean. “Sorry, ice cream dude.”

“‘S okay,” Jean muttered, glancing back and forth between the two of them, his poor confused mind trying desperately to decide which boy was hotter and only cropping up with a score on either side of  _hot diggity damn._  “Uhh. Ice cream. You guys want some ice cream?” Some halfway sane part of him flinched at this, whereas the brainwashed ice cream shop employee part of him screamed at his horrific segue into the world of business.

"Oh! Right," ‘Marco’ replied, and he turned to his boyfriend, extending a hand - and the boy wriggled under his arm so that they were entwined both sickeningly and adorably together. "Do you know what you want, honey-bunches-of-oats?" he asked, squeezing every ounce of sweetness into the petname in a truly horrific display of a youngster hopelessly in love. Had Jean been in his right mind, he probably would have thrown them both out of the store in disgust. As it was, he actually found it kind of cute and wondered briefly what Marco might call him if he were the one wrapped up together with him.

The other boy pursed his lips and looked down the row. “Have you got birthday cake?” he asked, leaning his head on Marco’s shoulder, arm wrapped slyly around his boyfriend’s waist.

"We can if you want us to," Jean said, before catching himself. "Uh - shit - not today, no." Ooh, his dress was kind of riding up where his hip was making contact with Marco’s. Man, those were some nice legs. Man, Marco had nice legs too. Oh god, what the fuck was happening.

The boy sighed heavily and turned his eyes up toward Marco. “What about you, babe?”

"Chocolate, please!" Marco chirruped, "In a waffle cone!"

"Coming right up," Jean choked out, and turned away before he could become even more entranced by this fucking gorgeous adorable couple. Shit, he must have bonked his head harder than he thought - he was thinking about sneaking his hands inside that t-shirt, up that obscenely short skirt, and he wasn’t entirely sure how to make himself stop.

On autopilot, he picked up a cone, scooped the ice cream, and turned back to  _HOLY SHIT THEY WERE MAKING OUT_

It seemed to be mostly the shorter boy doing the action, and Marco mumbling little things against his lips - “Eren, stop” - “Eren, he’s right there” - “Eren, please.” Eventually, he broke away, pressing one little kiss to ‘Eren’s’ nose and whispering something that Jean couldn’t quite make out before turning back to him and raising his eyebrows in dismay. “Oh, um, the cone - “

It was only then that Jean realized that he’d crushed the waffle cone in his grip.

He managed to formulate a coherent apology and serve them up some more ice cream before he finally got them away from the counter and into a nearby booth so that he could mop up the ice cream and maybe still his rapidly beating heart a little. Nonetheless, he kept glancing up to see them doing more sickeningly sweet things together.

"Lemme taste yours," Eren said at one point, and leaned forward to draw his tongue over Marco’s ice cream. As he sank back to his side of the booth, Marco stopped him.

"Hold on, sugar, you’ve got some left over."

"Really? Where?"

"Right here," Marco supplied, and kissed his lips.

"Ugh," came a voice from directly next to Jean, making him jump. Sasha had returned from the back. "What is  _wrong_ with some people?”

"I don’t see the issue," Jean replied under his breath.

"Are you kidding me? They’re in public. Some mom with little kids could walk right in. Hey, you!" she continued, raising her voice, and the two boys split apart, looking like deer caught in headlights. "Keep it in yer pants!"

Eren’s eyes made contact with Jean’s, and he snickered.

-

Later, as they were cleaning up shop, Sasha was splitting the contents of the tip jar into two equal portions for the two underling workers when Jean, who was on dining room cleanup, heard her scoff.

"I think this one’s for you," she called, waving a napkin above her head and rolling her eyes. Intrigued, Jean approached her.

She handed him a napkin, making a retching noise as she did so, and he read its contents. Two phone numbers, each with a name next to it - Eren and Marco. At the bottom was a personal message.

_Ur cute. Wanna play? ;)_

He could have vomited rainbows and baby-talked Sasha right then and there.

**Author's Note:**

> Someday I will do research on how to put hyperlinks on AO3. Today is not that day;  
> http://missplacemat.tumblr.com/post/91417736023/ohh-man-is-this-gonna-be-a-thing-where-people  
> P.S. I'm still taking fic requests on my Tumblr! I'm a little slow right now, but I promise I'll fill it at some point. NSFW requests are closed, but SFW are quite open and I'll be sure to let everyone know when NSFW ones open up again. :)


End file.
